


pas de valse

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Frottage, Implied weird au ri biology, M/M, Soul Bond, no gods no beta, there are three men and two bodies and one braincell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: To dance as two, as three. With as much awkwardness as being Brume-born knights implies.
Relationships: Fray Myste/Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	pas de valse

You sit astride Sidurgu, but it’s Fray that trembles, a chill settling on your shoulders, down your spine. Fray presses his thighs against the outside of Sidurgu’s hips, steadying himself when Sidurgu’s tail lashes beneath your weight. It’s good, in a way you don’t understand, that all of you are still partly dressed. The light shirt drags satisfyingly over Sidurgu’s scales over his side, protecting his ribs and down his laterals, cloth catching on Fray’s gauntlets as he drags his hands down his abdomen, below his navel and carefully scratching the gathering dark scales there.

“Don’t tear this one, I didn’t bring a spare.” Sidurgu grumbles, but the sound is muted, winter wind whispering from the windows. He doesn’t quite blush, which Fray finds surprising still, but one of his hands grabs Fray’s hip- your hip- nails trying to catch skin but only succeeding at finding cloth. 

“You had more when I picked you up from the moogles.”

“Had to use them for bandages, useless fluffballs had nothing on them, and they didn’t let me take their poms-”

Fray scoffs. It’s as much of a laugh as he can manage, and something glints in Sidurgu’s eyes. His other hand grasps at his shirt, and you both half-want to watch him struggle to pull it off one-handed over his head with those horns of his in the way. But you beat Fray to the punch, grabbing at his hand to stop him and let him keep his shirt. You’ve both fucked with clothes on- all three, Fray reminds you when he too lowers a hand to grasp at Sidurgu’s, warming metal claws running over the scales at his wrist and forearm, harder and rasping at your touch. And fun as it would be to watch Sidurgu struggle, you have better things to focus on. The roll of Sidurgu’s hips for one, hard and more to get a rise out of you than truly tempt. The way his lips are dry but warming under yours, pushing back into your kiss just so you know he isn’t intending to yield easy. The not-quite-soft way Fray is approaching this, shudders running down your spine and a need to try and fit beneath Sidurgu’s natural armor with your own. 

So you push back down on him, and you let Fray try his almost-laugh again when Sidurgu shudders and bites back some growl. His tail slaps the cheap bedding beneath you, and with both of your hands holding one of his he has one entire free hand to grab at your hip and move you to grind against him. And this time it’s heat, Fray’s voice rasping down your throat and Fray’s stutter as he closes your legs around Sidurgu’s hips once again. The wine-red glow from your soulstone brings a blush to Sidurgu’s wintry skin, and you half want him to notice, half want him to keep shifting your hips along his length just so Fray’s sensitivity can tide you over too. One of his knees bends behind your back, giving you something to lean against, and Fray seizes upon the chance eagerly. You fumble with the metal at your hands, wanting it out so the warmth along your skin carries better to the abyss, so you can feel Sidurgu’s pulse quicken and the rasp of scales against your palm.

Fray’s breath gets ragged when Sidurgu moves his sharper nails down, from your hip to your groin, then grips your length. Light, so light, he rasps a nail along a vein; Fray’s pulse jumps in your neck, and it’s your turn to laugh even if the sound is too breathy. It’s Fray that guides your hand around Sidurgu’s around your prick, guiding his motions to take sweet revenge on you.

_ That is for me to do, _ rings within your ears, Fray’s amusement sharp and fond.  _ Or you and Sidurgu would just fumble all night. _

Fray’s fingers tense at the head of you, and if you planned to roll your eyes you gasp instead, grinding against Sidurgu’s hips. Sidurgu repeats the motion without Fray’s guidance now, his hand slipping out from nearly underneath yours to cover it and jerking in tight, quick motions focused on the head of your prick. Fray’s breath shudders, and you feel it half on your spine and half on the febrile glow of the soulstone pressed to your chest. Both of you nearly jump out of your skin when Sidurgu leans forwards, tilting his head so as not to gore you with his horns, and presses his lips to your chest. Just over the gem, and you feel him grumble with fangs against your skin.

“Just missed it”, and it sounds like Fray, feels like Fray when he lifts a hand and cards it through Sidurgu’s spectacularly messed up hair. It can’t go worse, you think, so you ruffle his hair and feel Fray’s breath hitch just a bit in your lungs, feel Fray’s grinding stutter. Sidurgu moves his other hand to hold your hips steady, down hard against his length- and you’d gasp, if Fray wasn’t doing so already, if Sidurgu hadn’t also chosen to squeeze at the head of your cock again as he jerks- Fray barely holds still enough for Sidurgu to actually press his lips to the soulstone, heat and pressing darkness and if you weren’t frayed already- hah- you’d finish letting go then.

_ But what kind of Warrior of Light would you be if you didn’t always place other’s wants before your own _ , Fray breathes against your heart, between Sidurgu’s lips and his soulstone. And he’s not stopping, not when you gasp and buck against him, precome starting to stain his fingers and the front of his underthings. Fray has a feeling he won’t, not if he thinks its both of them, but he slows down when you grasp his hand at the wrist, the scales biting into the pads of your fingers.

“Let me try something,” you say and Fray laughs as it comes breathy and broken up but it’s fond, ghostly sensation warming your blood because even now, you have to have their pleasure to reach yours, fool that you are. Your free hand reaches behind your back, slippery on the sweat that has gathered until you reach the cord that holds the soulstone around your neck and down to dangle over your heart. Sidurgu’s hand at your hip is restless, his thumb tracing circles like he expects to find scales matching his own, rough against the bone. 

A different kind of chill settles when you remove the necklace. Your soul stretches taut, prickling along your skin, heavier at your chest. You half hear Fray protesting, his sensation even more dimmed without you to give him something to feel, and it seems Sidurgu does too by the way his eyes follow the pendant’s glow. The roll of his hips slows, and now that’s a shame, but it lets you get your few words in better order.

_ Is this how you intend to let go for me? _

“Can both of us…?”

Sidurgu stares between your eyes- feverish, not quite as aglow as his but he’s cheating with limbal rings and the flame in the abyss- and Fray’s crystal.

“No more summoning shades.”

You laugh, Fray’s voice ringing along with yours, and this has Sidurgu nearly gore you with his horns as he leans in to steal a kiss from both of you, grinding his length between your thighs and gods. Your arousal had cooled somewhat, and you’re not sure you want to take him, but it’s still searing heat and you have to reply with jerking rolls of your own hips. Fray grouses without words, him being away from your core stealing the overwhelming sensation, but it still resonates with him.

“No. But this way you can feel both of us.”

The growl against your neck is not the heated one you expect. Nor is the cuff to your side, far lighter than Sidurgu usually does, punctuated by a bite to your shoulder that has you groan. It is distant enough to be felt as gauntleted fingers down your spine, chillier than the pulse of lust, but Fray protests as well.

“You are already there. And…” Sidurgu loses steam, thinking to replace words with some form of action. Another bite to your shoulder, this time with heated intent and something that makes Fray startle against your ribcage, his breath stuttering in yours. His hand trailing down your side and against your length, his thumb pressed against the slit at the head. It’s your hips that roll against Sidurgu’s now, your breath that puffs against the crook between his jaw and his neck, jus under his horns. 

Fray guides your hands without touch to slip your necklace back over your head, then you both surge to crash against Sidurgu’s lips. Your aim is off, not so much that you harm but enough to feel the scales of his jaw instead of cold softness, and the answering growl is enough of a guide for you to fit yourselves better. Fray’s hand steadies Sidurgu’s head, grabbing at the base of his horn as you bite at his lip; your hand travels down, under his shirt and fumbling before you find Sidurgu’s prick. Fray knows how it looks, the ventral scales catching on your thumb, but you know best how it feels and between both of you, you can have Sidurgu growling against your neck. Fray’s hand feels oddly light, with the gauntlet shucked at some point you don’t remember and don’t care to remember; he’s rougher on Sidurgu to make up for it. Heavier, focusing on the head as his other hand- your other hand- tangles in his mess of hair to hold his mouth against yours. The growls pass almost to your throat, and Sidurgu’s hips stutter against yours; you’d let it slow, but Fray pushes your hips hard against Sidurgu’s and squeezes the head of his prick with a curse.

It’s Fray that goes first, and that may well have spared your pride a bit. Just a bit, because the way the dark takes you in an embrace and drags you deep doesn’t let you much room to continue working on Sidurgu; you think you hear him bite your name into your shoulder one last time, but you’re gone before he is. And- there is some spend on your hand, still beading on the head of Sidurgu’s prick- you wipe your hand off on the side of his shirt, somehow still on. He scrunches his nose before letting you out of his grip, then pulling back to pull his shirt off. You have to pull it off one of his horns later, his coordination still not quite there, and then you remember to shuck your own dirty clothing. They drop… somewhere, and you hope it’s not immediately visible if Rielle comes in first thing in the morning. You’d rather she see bloodstains, strangely enough, even if it would be better those were kept to a minimum, too.

“At least we don’t have to go wash.”

“Hm?”

“You’re still sitting on my legs, and I’m not sure if I feel them.”

Fray halfheartedly cuffs Sidurgu over the head, mostly just striking the last stubborn spikes of his hair.

“Go rest.”


End file.
